


Yevgeny's First Fairy

by koganphrancis



Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: (Pretty much canon up till Season 6 Episode 1), But overall pretty fluffy, Canon Divergent, GW2017B, M/M, Mentions of canon angsty plot points
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-07 17:03:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11627955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koganphrancis/pseuds/koganphrancis
Summary: Gallavich Week 2017B Day One FirstsA little look into the domestic life three of my favorite characters deserve.





	Yevgeny's First Fairy

Mickey stood at the stove, munching a piece of toast down as quickly as he could while making sure the scrambled eggs he was making for Ian weren’t sticking to the pan. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that his six year old son wasn’t eating the well rounded breakfast (scrambled egg, one piece of turkey bacon, orange slices, organic apple juice) he had made for him first. Ian had brought Mickey around to the benefits of good nutrition when it came to growing boys, but it had been hard giving up Pop Tarts and Froot Loops for breakfast.

“Ay, you feeling okay, buddy? You haven’t been eating much the past few days.”

“I’m fine, Papa,” Yev said in a small voice.

“Well then, get to it. You can’t make Ian late for work.” Mickey raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t immediately comply. Yevgeny sighed and picked up the smallest bit of egg with his little kid-sized fork and gently put it into his mouth.

Mickey turned off the heat under Ian’s eggs and slid them onto a plate, adding a few slices of turkey bacon and the rest of the orange slices from Yev’s orange. (Mickey got his orange intake in the form of marmalade on his toast.) He wiped his hands off on a kitchen towel and took the one step in their tiny kitchen it took to get from the stove to the table and gently felt Yev’s forehead and face. Just then Ian flew into the kitchen, kissed Mickey on the cheek and Yevgeny on the top of his head, and reached around Mickey with his long arms to get his breakfast off the counter. Ian’s hair was wet and he was a little bit more than half dressed, but his EMT uniform shirt was completely unbuttoned and he was in stocking feet. He had long ago discovered that if he spilled any breakfast on himself, he could just cover up his dark blue T shirt by buttoning up his uniform after he ate.

Ian put his plate down on the table and was headed toward the coffee pot when Mickey said softly in his ear, “Walk me to the door?” Ian gave Mickey a bit of a puzzled look, but nodded.

Once they were by the front door with the sound of the TV covering their voices, Mickey said, “Would you look Yevgeny over before you bring him to school, please? He doesn’t seem to have a fever, but he hasn’t been himself these past few days.”

Ian looked back to the table and nodded. Yev was listlessly poking his fork into his egg, but not eating. He’d been paler than usual and today Ian could see dark circles under his eyes.

“I gotta go, but call me if you think it’s anything and I’ll take a sick day,” Mickey said.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, but I’ll call you if I find anything out,” Ian promised. “Have a good day at work,” he added, pulling Mickey into a hug and giving him a deep kiss on the mouth. “Mmm, marmalade,” he grinned into Mickey’s eyes.

Mickey gently extricated himself from Ian’s arms. “If you didn’t insist we drink that bitter as fuck organic coffee maybe I could skip the sweet stuff in the morning.”

“Bullshit,” Ian snorted with a laugh-no way could Mickey start his day without at least one hit of sugar. Mickey pulled his jacket on, walked back to the kitchen to kiss Yevgeny and tell him goodbye, and then kissed Ian again on his way out the door.

“You have a good day at work, too,” he told Ian. They made a point of never parting for the day without a proper goodbye and a kiss. It was the complete opposite of what they had seen growing up, and that was the point. (Plus, they just really liked kissing each other.)

Once Mickey was out the door, Ian went to the kitchen table and sat down. He realized he forgot to get his coffee, so he bounded back up again and said, “You okay, Yevy? You haven’t eaten very much.” To his surprise, Yevgeny pushed his plate aside and let his head fall onto the table and began sobbing, hard.

“Papa’s going to be so angry,” he choked out. Ian forgot all about the coffee and knelt down next to Yev’s chair, rubbing his back soothingly and wondering what on earth could have the boy so upset. “I broke something and it’s going to be spensive to fix.”

Ian wrinkled his forehead in thought. What could Yev possibly break that was expensive? Ian looked to the living room where the TV was on (he and Mickey would leave it tuned into the Weather Channel for the other one, depending on who was up first and then leaving first for the day) and it was working fine. The only other thing Ian could think of that Yevgeny ever touched that might break were the faucets in the bathroom and he had just been in there after Yevgeny had been in it that morning and had used both the sink and the shower and they were intact. All of Yevgeny’s toys were pretty much indestructible plastic and he knew never to touch the PlayStation without one of his dads right there monitoring which games he played.

“Yev, what did you break?” Ian said gently. “Whatever it is, I’m sure Papa won’t be mad.”

“He will, Daddy! Fixing things costs moneys!” And with that, Yevgeny was off on a crying jag that he couldn’t speak during if he tried. Ian waited by his side, rubbing his back up and down and looking at Yevgeny’s little sneakers as his feet dangled from the booster seat on the kitchen chair that brought him up to table-level.

“Yev, please, you’re gonna make yourself sick. C’mere,” Ian said, pushing the chair back and lifting Yevgeny up and sitting back in his own chair cradling the boy in his arms. He gave Yev a minute to calm down and then gently said, “You can tell me or Papa anything. We love you and we always will. Now, what’s broken?”

Yev pulled away a bit from Ian and looked at him with sad blue eyes. Ian waited patiently.

“I broke my mouth, Daddy.”

Ian had a moment of sheer panic run through him, thinking Yevgeny was hurt. But then he realized Yev didn’t act hurt, and his mouth looked fine, not swollen or bruised or anything.

“What do you mean, Yevy?”

“Daddy, look,” Yev said, eyes filling with tears again as he opened his mouth and let Ian see inside. Everything looked perfectly normal.

“I don’t see anything…” he started to say. Yev stuck his little forefinger in his mouth and pushed one of his bottom front teeth back and forth.

“I don’t know how I broke it, but it’s broken,” Yev said softly, dissolving into tears again.

Ian breathed a sigh of relief. “Yev, that’s not broken, it’s just a loose tooth! That’s supposed to happen.”

“So, it’ll get better?” Yev asked, pulling away again and looking up at Ian hopefully.

“Well, no, it doesn’t get better-it’ll fall out.”

Yev looked horrified, and started crying again.

“Yevgeny, a new tooth will grow in and take its place, you know this.”

“No I don’t!” Yev cried, sobbing into Ian’s chest harder than ever.

Ian paused and thought-maybe Yev didn’t know about this. He was the oldest kid in his kindergarten class-Mickey and Ian had been told it’d be better for Yev if he repeated the grade since he hadn’t gone to preschool and when he got to kindergarten he spoke more Russian than English and could recite and write the entire Cyrillic alphabet but only knew the alphabet song and didn’t write the English alphabet yet. By the end of his first trip through kindergarten he was writing the alphabet and he was speaking more English than Russian (no one was around to talk to Yevgeny in Russian except an old lady at the newspaper stand near the park they sometimes went to-Mickey would always stop by to check out the latest celebrity gossip mags and Yev would chat with the old lady). Mickey and Ian agreed to hold him back a year because they were terrified of messing him up, plus the school reassured them it’d be easier for Yev to acclimate to a new set of classmates the younger he was, before any close friendships had been forged.

Mickey and Ian read to Yevgeny as much as they could, but thinking back over the kiddie books they owned or had taken out from the library, Ian couldn’t recall ever reading one that dealt with baby teeth. And as for the dentist-their dental plan was adequate, but just barely. Yev had had a thorough exam with the dentist when he first saw him when he was four (that was his first visit that was at an actual dentist’s office, not a clinic from before he was on Ian’s family plan), so come to think of it, at his biannual cleanings since, Yevgeny only ever saw a hygienist and so no one there had ever talked to them about losing teeth either.

So, between Yev being the oldest kid in his class and it never occurring to Ian or Mickey to let him know it would happen, the poor kid hadn’t had a clue. No wonder he was upset.

“Aw, Yev, I’m so sorry we never told you about this. But, listen, your tooth isn’t broken. It’s just loose so it can get out of the way for your adult tooth to come in a little bit later. It happens to everybody and it doesn’t hurt, and…isn’t it kind of cool? How you can wriggle your tooth back and forth like that? When it gets loose enough, it’ll fall out on its own. You just want to be careful not to bite into anything too hard, like an apple or something while it’s loose. And when it does come all the way free, spit it into your hand and bring it to me or Papa, okay?”

“Papa’s not gonna be mad?” Yevgeny had stopped crying and had listened closely to everything Ian had told him. He had even started wriggling the tooth back and forth with his tongue when Ian had said it was cool. “It won’t cost money for the new tooth?”

Ian chuckled. “No, it won’t cost any money for your new teeth, don’t worry. Think you could eat some breakfast now if I make you a new egg and microwave the bacon?” Yev nodded. Ian figured this one time they could be a few minutes late for school-his boy needed to eat.

After Ian dropped Yevgeny off at school, he sent a text to Mickey from the El on his way to work. He was going to make it on time, since he had learned from his own hectic childhood to build in an extra fifteen minutes or so in the morning to deal with the inevitable delays that came up when trying to get three males out of the house each day.

“Yev’s fine. Not sick. Happy now. I’ll call u @ lunch,” he texted. He figured he could share the details with Mickey in a conversation, this was a milestone in their son’s life after all. To Ian’s surprise, Mickey texted right back.

“Can we meet 4 lunch? Alpo’s?” the text read. “Alpo’s” was Mickey’s nickname for Adolfo’s, a pizza and sandwich spot halfway between Mickey’s work and Ian’s. Ian prayed the owner never heard Mick comparing his place to dog food, but Mickey sort of had a point. They only ever went there because it was convenient and cheap, not for the quality of the food. Ian texted back that he’d call Mickey when he was close to his lunch break. He never had a set time since he could be on a call, but most days he could take his lunch at noon like Mickey did. Otherwise Mickey could push his lunch hour back a bit to meet up with Ian.

That day all went smoothly for Ian and he was able to meet Mickey at noon. They ordered meatball subs and sat down at a table to wait for them. Ian told Mickey about Yevgeny’s tooth, trying to remember as much of the conversation word for word as possible so he could be a part of this first for Yevy. Ian thought Mickey would laugh when he heard what had been troubling the kid, but Mickey had a scowl on his face by the time he was done with the story.

“What the fuck? The kid’s afraid of me?” Mickey said when Ian had finished.

“What? No! He was just worried you’d be upset if you had to pay to fix his tooth…”

“Yeah, worried because he’s scared of me.”

“Mick, that’s not…”

“Ian. He told you when he wouldn’t tell me, and when he told you, he said I was going to be pissed. He must think I’m a monster.”

“Mickey, you know he doesn’t. He just knows you tend to worry about unexpected expenses…”

Mickey snorted. Ian was trying to paint too pretty a picture by understating things. Mickey knew he freaked out about money, he couldn’t help it. Ever since he got out of prison, he felt on a daily basis how hard it was to keep his head above water when it came to earning money only through legitimate means. Most of the time it felt like an honest asshole didn’t stand a chance in this world-at least the world they had to live in.

He did flip out over money, he knew this. But the wolf was always on their doorstep, and he was pretty much always terrified that the day would come when he’d have to gauge risking his freedom against letting his family go cold or hungry, which is how he had spent most of his life. He wanted to do better by Yev, he had to do better.

Hell, money problems were the first thing facing him when he got out of prison. He walked out of the joint five grand in the hole to an asshole do-gooder he swore he’d never have anything to do with again…

After Ian’s last visit to him in prison, that Svetlana had to pay Ian to make and during which Ian barely looked at him and had to be coaxed into lying to Mickey about waiting for him, Mickey had taken Ian’s name off his visitor’s list. If he went through another visit like that, he’d undoubtedly start a fight to purposely get shanked and bleed out so he’d never have to see that hollow, haunted look in Ian’s eyes again. He told Svetlana to never ask or bribe Ian to go up there again, and told her in a way that she got the message loud and clear.

Mickey figured taking Ian’s name off the list was a meaningless gesture, but little did he know that once Ian got stabilized on his meds, the prison was the first place he headed. Being told the inmate had taken his name off the list felt like a fist to the face, but on the long bus ride back to Chicago, Ian realized it was only fair. Ian didn’t deserve to see Mickey after all he had put him through.

Ian worked hard, damn hard, to build a life he could hold his head up about and so he’d be able to look Mickey in the eye when he got out-if he’d ever see him again. Ian’s initial plan was to ride out the eight years, pray Mickey got out that soon, and dedicate himself to winning Mickey’s trust and love back. He toyed with the idea of breaking off his dalliance with the fire fighter he had started seeing, but knew deep down they weren’t meant for the long haul anyway. He knew it wouldn’t win him any points with Mickey to live like a monk for almost a decade, even if Ian thought for one minute he could go that long a stretch without sex.

But Ian’s resolve to make do with passively hoping for Mickey to get early release didn’t last long. He began to think he didn’t want to wait eight years-or even more if praying for overcrowding and good behavior didn’t work-and started to formulate a plan. While he was working on his plan, Caleb surprised him by cheating on him with his high school girlfriend, and Ian walked. He didn’t care, he didn’t need Caleb’s shit. He continued to work towards helping Mickey and the months went by during which he eventually met another guy and continued to work at his job and take care of his health.

Meanwhile, back at the big house, one day Mickey was told he had a visitor.

“Ain’t visiting day,” Mickey groused to the guard who had come to collect him.

“It’s your lawyer.”

“Ain’t got a lawyer,” Mickey replied.

“Get your ass moving, Milkovich.”

Mickey was led to a room with a table. The guard told Mickey to take a seat and he sat down across from a man he had never seen before.

“You may leave us,” the man told the guard.

“I’ll be right outside, just shout when you’re ready to go,” the guard said.

Mickey just sat there for a moment, taking in the man’s nice suit, big watch, and leather briefcase. He had fenced enough shit to know the approximate retail value of all of it.

“The fuck are you?” Mickey spit out. The man smiled.

“I was told you’d be warm and welcoming, Mr. Milkovich. I’m your attorney, Reese Carter.” He held out his hand for Mickey to shake. Mickey didn’t.

“I don’t have a fucking attorney,” Mickey insisted stubbornly.

“Now you do. I’ve been paid a retainer to look into your case and I can assure you, you do have a case,” the lawyer stated calmly.

“Paid by who?”

“They’d like to remain anonymous,” the lawyer said in his same calm, unruffled tone. Mickey was ready to punch the smooth out of this fucker. “Mr. Milkovich, I bill by the hour. We can sit here arguing or you can let me tell you what I plan to do to get your conviction overturned.”

Mickey decided he’d shut up and let the lawyer talk. He couldn’t imagine anyone he knew who would have the money to hire this guy but he had fuck all to do with his days here, he was in no rush to be brought back to his cell.

The gist of it was that Mickey’s public defender botched the case miserably, but also grossly misrepresented the consequences of Mickey pleading guilty to a charge of attempted murder in the second degree. Mickey vaguely remembered the PD telling him he’d get life with no chance of parole if he was convicted of murder one, so that he should take the deal the court assigned lawyer had worked out with the District Attorney’s office. This man in the fancy suit explained he never would’ve been charged with murder one-Sammi wasn’t murdered, for one thing-and that the police and the DA’s office didn’t have any evidence to even begin to try to make attempted murder in the second degree stick. Mickey was a victim of legal malpractice.

“Even after my five thousand dollar retainer has been spent, I promise you I will continue to work pro bono to get that lawyer disbarred,” the attorney said, to wrap things up. “You could sue him for malpractice, also.”

Mickey’s eyes had bugged out a bit at the “five thousand dollars”. Had Svetlana taken the money she made off of him while he was in prison and hired this guy? Doubtful-Mickey hadn’t made that much before he stopped accepting her visits too, and she’d never spend a cent on Mickey. Did Iggy or Colin score big and hire this guy? Mickey dismissed that idea, too. They wouldn’t spend that kind of money on him if they ever had it, plus they wouldn’t remain anonymous about it if some fit of brotherly madness had overtaken them and they decided to go downtown and hire a respectable attorney for him.

“My court appointed was fresh outta law school,” Mickey said. “I’m sure his student loan debt is more than I could even bother suing him for.”

“He’ll have malpractice insurance, they’ll pay,” Reese said.

Mickey shrugged his shoulders, looking bored. “I’d have to hire a lawyer myself to try to go after it-by the time all was said and done the fees for those ‘billable hours’ would probably eat up whatever I could get. I know how it goes, I’ve read Bleak House.”

“You have?” The lawyer let his surprise show.

“Not much to do in here but read and work out,” Mickey said.

The day of his hearing, his attorney brought him a suit to wear.

“The fuck is this?” Mickey asked in his usual manner.

“A suit, Mr. Milkovich. We want to present a valuable member of society to the judge, not a criminal in prison coveralls.”

“What’s that gonna cost me?” Mickey said, eying the garment bag suspiciously.

“Nothing-it’s rented. So are the shoes. It all goes back after the hearing. The shirt and tie are yours to keep though.”

Mickey put the suit on in a rest room with a guard standing outside the stall. He came out and looked himself over. What he could see in the bathroom mirror over the sink looked pretty decent. Whoever had picked out the suit did a good job of guessing his size.

The hearing took place in a smaller courtroom-there was no jury, just Mickey, his attorney, and a couple of clowns from the DA’s office in front of the judge, bailiff, and court stenographer. And Mickey’s prison guard. When Mickey was escorted into the room between the guard and his attorney, he glanced around the room and saw that there was only one person sitting in the back of the room away from the action-Ian fucking Gallagher wearing some sort of blue uniform. Mickey turned his head before they could make eye contact and wondered what the fuck Ian was doing there.

Things went quickly. Mickey’s conviction was overturned and he was free to rejoin society. Mickey was in a state of shock as his attorney led him out of the room.

“That’s really it? It was that easy?” Mickey murmured, still in a daze.

“Well, there was a lot of red tape legal work done before today, but that’s been done and the judge has ruled and you’re a free man, Mr. Milkovich. Here’s my card, you can return the suit and shoes to my offices tomorrow. As long as we have them back to the rental place before noon we won’t be charged an extra day. Your belongings from the prison will be messengered to you as soon as possible. Is there anything else I can do for you today? Call you a cab? Anything?” the lawyer asked.

Mickey shook his head. “Uh, no, thanks. You’ve done…a lot. Thank you.”

Carter stuck out his hand. “Pleasure to have met you, Mr. Milkovich. I’m glad we were able to see that justice was finally served.”

Mickey shook his hand.

“I have other business in the courthouse, so I’ll leave you now,” Carter told him. “But please keep my number and call me if you need me for anything.” Mickey nodded and watched the lawyer walk away.

Mickey shook his head to clear it a bit, turned and walked right into “Gallagher?” he said, in an annoyed tone. “What the fuuuuuck.”

“Hello to you too, Mick.”

Mickey looked Ian over. Now that he was closer he could see that Ian was wearing an EMT uniform. “You went legit while I was inside?” The words were out of his mouth before he remembered he never wanted to speak to Ian fucking Gallagher again in his life.

“Became an EMT,” Ian said, a bit defensively, like he thought Mickey was going to make fun of him.

“Good for you,” Mickey said in a harsh tone, and then clamped his mouth shut. He really had to remember he didn’t want to talk to this fucker.

“I’m, uh, I’m glad you’re free,” Ian tried, in a quiet voice.

“Yeah, well, I am and now I don’t have to talk to anyone I don’t want to, so…” he started to walk away from Ian, towards the doors to the outside.

“Mickey, wait up!” Mickey kept walking. Ian gave chase. He caught up with Mickey on the courthouse steps. “How are you getting home? Do you have money for the El?”

“Aw, fuck,” Mickey said, realizing. He could try panhandling some change, but that could take a while.

“Look, if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. But at least take a couple of bucks for the train. You hungry? We could grab a bite…”

“Give me some money to get home, but you’re right, I don’t want to talk to you,” Mickey said stonily.

“Mick…”

“Gallagher. Don’t.”

Ian swallowed hard and dug out his wallet. As Mickey stood there watching him pull out a five, it hit him. The uniform, Ian being there…

“You fucking hired that lawyer?” Mickey barked. People around them stopped and stared before moving on-after catching a dirty look and the finger from Mickey.

“Mickey, I…”

“Fucking…you never could just leave shit alone, could you?” Mickey looked like he wanted to punch Ian in the face. “Where’d you even get five grand?”

“I’ve been working for a year, saving, I wanted you to have…”

“I don’t want your fucking money,” Mickey said, his voice low and almost failing him. He pushed Ian’s hand away where he was trying to hand him the five dollar bill. Fuck it, he’d walk home if he had to, even if it took hours. “I’ll fucking pay you back, it’ll take a while, but I’ll pay it all back to you.”

“Mickey, I don’t want it, I won’t take it.”

“You fucking will.”

“I’ll just put it in a savings account for Yevgeny-please, Mickey. I don’t need the money. I needed you to be free…”

“I’ll pay it back. Just stay the fuck away from me, Gallagher.” Mickey walked away, leaving Ian standing alone.

 

One thing Mickey had to say for the prison system-it had scared him straight. Not sexually speaking, but in the sense that he never wanted to be on the inside again. Fuck that. He was never going to risk doing anything that could potentially send him back, even if opportunities for a high school dropout former thug were few. It wasn’t the violence in there that he couldn’t stand-his own neighborhood, hell his own house when his father was home-probably weren’t much safer, and at least in prison, there was a code about violence and retribution. What bothered Mickey was the complete lack of freedom. Nothing in there was your own, not your time, not your occupation, nothing. He never could stand being pinned down by anything but Ian’s arms (a thought he tried not to think), and never being able to just get up and go for a smoke or turn a light on or off when he wanted to made his skin feel too tight and his lungs feel like they weren’t getting enough air. He’d do anything to avoid being penned in like that again.

So he found a minimum wage job at a factory that manufactured a component for car headlights. That was it, the company’s whole claim to fame, but the original founder had gotten a patent on the part in the 1940s and to this day most car headlights used the part and the factory in Chicago was the one place that made them. Mickey was hired to work on the assembly line and it was boring as fuck, but still not as boring as being locked in a cell.

He cashed his first paycheck and put fifty dollars in an envelope and then wondered how the hell he’d get it to Ian. He didn’t trust the mail and he sure as hell didn’t want to see Ian to give it to him in person. He thought about checking out the diner where Fiona used to work, but didn’t want to see her either. He finally decided he’d risk going to The Alibi and he’d give it to Kev or Vee to give to Ian.

But when he got to the bar, they were no longer there. Svetlana was running the place and she gave Mickey a suspicious look when he came in, but answered his questions about the Balls when he asked. She told him how she had tricked them into signing the bar over to her, and that her plan had been for the three of them to work there, just they’d be employees and she’d run the business end of things. Turns out Kev and Veronica weren’t on board with that plan, so Svetlana was making a go of things on her own.

Mickey didn’t judge (he didn’t care enough to), and told Svetlana he had come there in hopes of using the Balls to get Ian his money. Svetlana volunteered to do it instead.

“I don’t know,” Mickey said. “It’s gonna be a weekly thing, I can’t afford to pay him off any quicker…”

“Exercise will do me good. I’ll walk it over there once a week,” Svetlana insisted. Mickey didn’t see that he had any other choice, but he did wonder if Svetlana had an ulterior motive. “You watch Yevgeny when I go.” Ah, there it was.

Over time Mickey found he actually looked forward to his weekly visits with his son. He wasn’t comfortable hanging around at The Alibi, but Svetlana had re-renovated the upstairs from the old Rub and Tug back into an apartment, like when the old dude that Kev got the bar from had lived up there. Mickey would go right upstairs, thereby avoiding any potential run-ins with Frank or Lip if they happened to come in. Nika was back, living with Svetlana and Yevgeny, and Mickey would take over watching the kid from her, and Nika would go downstairs and work in the bar-legit work, Svetlana wouldn’t let her bring her johns up to the apartment and told Nika she was too classy to jerk guys off in the alley or bathroom. Nika would keep an eye on the bar while Svetlana walked to the Gallagher house and back.

Most evenings when Mickey would stop by, Svetlana would put Nika in charge after the evening rush and come upstairs and talk to Mickey over a couple of beers after Mickey put Yev to bed. It was actually kind of nice. Mickey didn’t have anyone else in his life to talk to about the day to day things. Svetlana could see he was really being a good father to Yevgeny too, and she was glad she hadn’t really let Kevin and Vee adopt him. She had actually divorced Mickey while he was incarcerated, but she had never had him sign over his parental rights.

She was also being really cool about dropping off Gallagher’s money. Mickey never asked, but she always made a point of telling him who she gave it to. Usually it was Debbie or Fiona, but one week she told him one of the brothers answered the door.

“The younger one-not the blue eyed one,” she reported. Actually, it had been Trevor who answered the door, and didn’t know what the hell was going on, and when Ian got out of the shower and took the envelope but wouldn’t tell him what it was about they had a fight.

The argument really crystalized for Ian how little interest he had in wasting any more of his time with Trevor. When they had met, Ian had only wanted to be friends, but Trevor wanted more. In the couple of months they had been together, Ian was already beginning to realize Trevor would always want more-more attention, more explanations, more of Ian’s devotion. Trevor was all about Trevor. At first Ian liked that he never had to talk about himself, his past, his problems. But now he realized he’d never be able to share with Trevor, only give _to_ Trevor. Trevor had no interest in anyone else’s issues, he only ever wanted to talk about himself. Anyone else’s problems just didn’t matter. In the beginning Ian thought he understood that-doing a job where you’re always helping others means you do have to develop a level of detachment or you’ll burn out and be no good to anyone. But Trevor carried that detachment over into dealing with people he knew personally, and Ian came to realize that he couldn’t live his life with someone like that. They had to at least care a little about what Ian was dealing with. Ian hadn’t even told Trevor he had bipolar I. He knew Trevor wouldn’t be interested. The only reason he was so intrigued about the envelope was because he couldn’t stand the thought of Ian having something going on that didn’t involve him.

Ian broke up with him as gently as he could, telling him no hard feelings and “it’s not you, it’s me” and Trevor ranted for a bit about how Ian would never find anyone like him ever again and how he could get any guy he wanted, and the next day Trevor was also sure to text Ian that he had a date that night. Ian sincerely wished him well and then deleted his number from his contacts. He truly had no hard feelings towards the guy, but he had had enough of the drama.

Mickey’s social life wasn’t faring much better. The few times he ventured into Boystown hadn’t amounted to very much. Meaningless sex had never held much of an allure for him but he also felt like the last thing he was ready for right now was a serious relationship. He also wasn’t about to bring anyone home to his South Side house and he didn’t have money to waste on motel rooms, so that limited his options. He’d settled for a couple of hand jobs and blow jobs in the bathrooms at a couple of bars, and had gone home with a few different guys for one night stands where he did all the fucking, just like in prison. Each encounter left him feeling emptier than the last, and he was beyond pissed off at himself that the only way he could ever get off was by closing his eyes and picturing (or, if he was being honest with himself, remembering) red hair and freckled skin.

There was a guy at work that was throwing out such unsubtle hints even Mickey picked up on the fact that the man had gone from getting to know him to flirting, but there was no way Mickey was getting involved with someone he’d have to see every day even after the affair ended. It was too bad, too. Mickey actually did like the guy and in another setting, maybe something could’ve happened between them.

Mickey had been out just over six months when Svetlana showed up at his door with Yevgeny and a suitcase and a couple of big garbage bags in tow. A cab was sitting at the curb and Mickey could see Nika was sitting in the backseat. Yevgeny was sleeping in Svetlana’s arms and she quietly asked Mickey if she could put him down. Mickey nodded and let them into the house and Svetlana went right to Mickey’s bedroom and put Yev in the middle of the unmade bed and looked at him for a moment, then kissed her fingertips and pressed them to Yev’s forehead. Mickey stood in the doorway watching. Svetlana walked past him and then reached back to shut the door and motioned for Mickey to follow her back to the living room.

Her purse was slung over one shoulder and she dug through it and pulled out a big manila envelope. She handed it to Mickey.

“My parental rights-I saw lawyer, I’m signing them over to you. Yevgeny is yours now.”

“What the fuck?” Mickey had not seen this coming.

“Nika and I are moving south, to try to start a new life. We’ll need money though. Selling cheap booze to derelicts will never make me financially secure. I know this now. I signed the bar back over to Kev and Vee and I’m leaving. The only way we’ll make money at first is prostitution and that is no life for little boy to grow up around, yes?”

“Yes,” Mickey agreed in a daze, still not believing what he was hearing.

“And it’s not fair to you to expect you to wait to see if I can make better life, so now if you find someone or get back with Orange Boy you are free to be family.”

“I’m not…”

“Cab is waiting. I go.”

And just like that, she was gone. Mickey really couldn’t believe it at first. He never thought Svetlana would abandon her son. He thought for sure she’d call to at least check in if nothing else, but she never did.

So now Mickey had a toddler to raise. His company had an in-house daycare, but there were too many kids, especially bigger kids, and Yevgeny came home from the trial day crying from being picked on and exhausted from being pushed around and he came down with strep throat twenty-four hours later and Mickey just didn’t see it working out for them. An older lady in the neighborhood had always supplemented her social security income by babysitting for people if they paid her under the table. Mickey went to see her and even though she had stopped being a child minder when she turned seventy-five, she felt so sorry for Mickey (she had always hated Terry with a passion and felt damn bad for his kids) she told him she’d watch Yev, but that she wasn’t as spry as she used to be. Mickey figured she would be able to keep an eye on the kid while he played with blocks and watched Sesame Street and took his afternoon nap, and that she’d manage to get him to eat his lunch every day.

Paying her meant another two hundred dollars a week was gone as fast as he earned it. He knew he couldn’t bitch about that, it averaged out to less than five dollars an hour for the old lady and he certainly wouldn’t watch someone else’s kid for so little. But it made things tighter than ever and every penny needed to be watched so carefully. He gave up his infrequent excursions to Boystown and spent his evenings in with Yevgeny. Yev was for the most part a well behaved kid, but every night he cried for his mother before going to bed, and would invariably wake up at least two to three times throughout the night every night crying out for her. All Mickey could do was pick him up and carry him around till he calmed down enough to fall back to sleep. Mickey would talk softly to him, letting him cry into his shoulder. The kid would babble in Russian and Mickey wished he knew what he was saying.

One night about three months after Svetlana had left, Mickey was truly desperate. Yev had started crying the minute his pajamas were on and wouldn’t stop. He wasn’t even trying to talk, he just kept crying and crying. He didn’t feel like he had a fever, although his face was red and he felt warmer than usual to Mickey. Mickey didn’t know what to do, so he finally called The Alibi to see if Vee would have any ideas or suggestions. Kevin said she was out of town with her mother though, so Mickey thanked him and hung up. Yevgeny continued to cry and cry.

Mickey didn’t want to take him to an emergency room since the last time he did that he had to pay five hundred dollars only to be told Yevgeny had the common cold and nothing could be done for him there-all they could recommend was rest and fluids. And that time he did have a fever. Mickey sat looking at Yevgeny crying in his arms and finally decided he had to nut up and get him some help. He dug his old phone out of his back pocket and hoped the number he had still worked.

“Mickey?”

“Gallagher, there’s something wrong with Yevgeny. Is there any chance you can come take a look at him?”

“I’ll be right there.”

Mickey put his phone away and looked at Yev worriedly. Fuck, this being a parent was hard.

In mere minutes there was a knocking at the door. Mickey answered it, still carrying Yevgeny, looking so small and vulnerable in faded blue footie pajamas. Ian was in regular clothes –not his EMT uniform-and he had a big canvas bag slung over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, man, I didn’t have anyone else I could call-I didn’t even ask if you were working, or busy…”

“It’s okay, Mickey. I was just hanging out at home. Worked a day shift today, been home for a while. What’s happening with this little guy?” Ian said, following Mickey into the Milkovich house. Mickey sat on the couch, the crying child still in his arms. Ian gently reached out and felt Yevgeny’s forehead.

“He’s been crying hard nonstop for almost two hours now,” Mickey said. “I don’t know what’s wrong. He, uh, he usually cries when I have to put him in his bed, but we, um, we have a routine? Pajamas after his bath and then we sit up a while watching TV and shit. He’s never cried just cuz I put the pjs on before.”

Ian was unzipping his bag and listening and nodding. “And, he didn’t fall down, or bump himself anywhere?” Ian asked.

Mickey bristled a little. “No. I keep an eye on him. He didn’t fall, or ‘get bumped’.”

“Okay, Mickey. I have to ask. We have to eliminate all possibilities, try to narrow things down.” Ian pressed an electronic thermometer across Yev’s forehead. “No fever.”

Mickey let out a breath. “Yeah, didn’t think so,” he said, over Yevgeny’s crying. “I would’ve taken him to an ER if there was.”

Ian was lightly running his hands down each of Yevgeny’s arms, then his legs, then his torso. Yev’s cries subsided a little and he looked at Ian curiously while he did it, but as soon as Ian took his hands away, he was wailing at full volume again.

“Yevgeny, does it hurt anywhere?” Ian tried. Yevgeny just kept crying. “Mick, do you mind taking off his pajamas?”

Mickey stood up and put Yev down on the couch and got his pjs off while Yevgeny cried and squirmed. He looked so little lying on the couch only wearing his big boy underwear. Mickey was getting more worried by the minute. Ian slowly ran his hands over Yev’s arms one at a time again, and checked each of his fingers, then felt around his torso again, then one leg and foot, and then his other leg and when Ian picked up his right foot, Yevgeny kicked it out of Ian’s gentle hold and cried louder than ever.

“Ah,” Ian said, reaching back into his bag without taking his eyes off Yevgeny. “Mickey, want to sit down again and have Yevgeny sit on your lap, please?”

“What is it?” Mickey said, doing as Ian asked even as he spoke.

Ian knelt on the floor in front of them. “I think,” Ian said, pulling out a little flashlight and shining it on the bottom of Yevgeny’s foot while he tenderly straightened out Yevgeny’s toes with his free hand, “that there’s something… yup, there it is.” He clicked the flashlight off and set it down on the floor.

Mickey watched while Ian delicately began to unwind something from around Yev’s baby toe. Yevgeny stopped crying as soon as Ian was done and the room was suddenly, blissfully quiet.

“What the fuck is it?” Mickey asked.

Ian held up a black hair, unmistakably Mickey’s, stretching it taut between his thumb and forefinger of each hand. “This was wrapped tight around his little piggy toe,” Ian explained. “It was probably cutting into him like a wire.”

Mickey looked horrified.

“Mick, that’s just an expression. It probably didn’t hurt that much-it was just irritating and he had no way of telling you so.” Ian picked up the flashlight again and looked at Yevgeny’s toe. “The skin around the base of his toe didn’t break. It only looks a little red. Another dip in the tub will probably make it feel all better, and I can put some ointment on too that will help soothe it.”

“You don’t mind?” Mickey asked, almost shyly. “You, uh, you’ll stick around while I give him another bath and put the ointment on when he’s all dried off again?”

Both Mickey and Yevgeny were looking at Ian with their big blue eyes.

“Of course I don’t mind,” Ian grinned. “I’m happy to help.” He stood up and walked to the bathroom, leaving Mickey to scramble up off the couch still holding Yev to follow him.

When they got to the bathroom, Ian already had the tub stopped up and was running water into it, his hand under the spout to be sure it was the right temperature.

“Hey, you don’t gotta do all that,” Mickey said.

“I want to,” Ian said simply. “Hold Yev while I get everything ready.” Ian saw there was some baby bubble bath in the shower caddy and squirted some of that into the water, swirling it around with his hand to get the bubbles fluffed up. Mickey sat on the closed toilet seat with Yevgeny on his lap, both of them watching.

“Igrushki,” Yev said, pointing down.

Mickey reached down next to him and handed Ian a little plastic bucket that was sitting on top of the magazine holder next to the toilet. “That means toys,” Mickey explained.

Ian took the bucket of little boats and a duck and various other waterproof toys and put it on the edge of the tub.

“You’re picking up some Russian, Mickey? That’s awesome.”

“Well, not much, but that one I learned pretty quick-he uses it a lot.”

“I think I’ve forgotten most of what, um, she taught me,” Ian said. “I remember good morning is dobroye utro and that’s about it.”

“Dobroy nochi,” Yev said, smiling.

“Good night? Is that what that one means?” Ian asked and the toddler laughed and nodded. Mickey had to smile. Ian was working his old charm on Yevgeny. They always had been close.

“Okay,” Ian said, turning off the water, “I think this bath is ready.”

Mickey stood Yev up on the little bath mat and pulled down his undies and lifted him into the tub. Ian started handing Yevgeny his toys one by one, getting a “spasibo” in thanks from Yev after each one.

After the boy had splashed happily for a little bit and the bubbles all popped away and the water began to cool, Mickey pulled Yev out and got him dried and dressed in the kid's bedroom while Ian rinsed off the toys and the tub. Mickey picked out pjs that didn’t have sewn on feet this time and when Ian was done straightening out the bathroom he got the antibiotic ointment out of his bag and put some around the base of Yev’s toe with a cotton swab.

“Should I put socks on him, do you think?” Mickey asked.

“Probably a good idea, it’ll keep the ointment from getting all over his sheets, and it is a bit cold tonight,” Ian said.

Mickey got the socks on and kissed Yev goodnight.

Ian said, “Is it okay if I…?” Mickey nodded and Ian leaned down and kissed Yev’s other cheek. “Dobroy nochi,” Ian whispered. Yev said it back, then smiled and shut his eyes, hugging his stuffed elephant that he always slept with to his chest. Mickey raised his eyebrows, his arms crossed tight over his chest and then quietly walked out of the room, Ian following him.

Mickey pulled Yev’s door so it was almost shut, but not completely closed. Back in the living room he said to Ian, “I think that’s the first time he’s gone to bed without crying for Svetlana.” Ian’s face got really soft.

“Vee told me how Svetlana left town,” Ian said. “But Yevgeny looks great. He’s healthy and growing.”

Mickey hadn’t realized till Ian said that how badly he needed to hear it. Ever since the day Svetlana dropped him off, Mickey had been terrified that he was ruining the kid’s life.

“You, ah, got time for a beer? Or something?” Mickey asked.

“Sure,” Ian answered quickly, surprised but happy to be asked.

"So, you living here with some of your brothers?" Ian asked tentatively, wanting to change the subject to something other than Svetlana when he and Mickey had settled down at the kitchen table with the beers Mickey had retrieved from the fridge.

"Naw, right now it's just me and the kid.  Iggy and Colin fucked up some deal and had to go on the lam till the heat is off of them, none of my other brothers live here anymore even when they're not in the can, and my old man is still serving since that last parole violation."  Mickey paused for a minute, remembering that winter's night when Terry got arrested outside The Alibi.  "And Mandy...well, I guess you've seen her more recently than me."

Ian sighed.  "Yeah.  Haven't heard from her since though.  Have you?"

Mickey shrugged.  "She knows I'm out."  Ian could see plain as day Mickey didn't want to talk about her, either.  

Ian was pretty sure Mickey didn't want to talk about what he was about to say next, but he had to say it.  

"Mickey, I want to apolog..."

"Gallagher, don't."  Mickey used his sternest, quietest voice to cut him off.

"I've got to, Mick, this might be my only chance."  He raised his chin.  Not defiantly, but in that stubborn way Mickey remembered that meant Ian was determined to do what he felt he had to do.  Mickey let his eyes slip away from Ian's face, but he didn't interrupt him again.  

"Mickey, I want to apologize.  I'm not going to try to justify anything I said or did back when we were together after you found me when I went AWOL from the army.  I can't give you reasons for anything I was doing, because I wasn't using reason myself back then.  I know now-and I've known for some time-that you were just doing your best to try to help me and I refused your help at every turn.  I hurt a lot of people, but no one more than you, the one person who had my back no matter what.  I won't rehash all the shit I put you through, but I will tell you I'm so sorry for taking Yev and I'm thankful every single day that I didn't hurt him or keep him away from you any longer than I did.  And I'm sorry for the way I acted and what I said the day I got back from being with Monica, that day Sammi came after you.  Nothing will ever make up for what I did to you, but I promise you, I won't ever let things get that bad again."

Mickey sat staring at the floor.  He didn't react to a single thing Ian said the whole time he was talking.  To anyone looking at him, including Ian, it would look like he was trying to keep his temper in check and not lash out at the storm of feelings all those memories were stirring up.  

But Mickey's emotions were on a different track altogether.  Everything Ian said were things he had long ago given up hope of ever hearing.  Hearing them now, all Mickey could think was that Ian was being way harder on himself than he had to be.  Of course there was a reason for most of the shit he had pulled-he was a teenage kid battling not only his own mental illness but living in an environment where he couldn't expect to find any real help and had to deal with Mickey's violent father and the constant presence of his unwanted wife.  Mickey had never doubted Ian's love for Yevgeny even when he was worried sick about the baby when Ian ran off with him.  Mickey had doubted Ian's love for him, especially while he was in prison, because in what world would a sweet, shining man like Ian had become ever love a fucked up mess with no future like Mickey had been brought up to be?  

Sitting there, Mickey knew two things to be indisputably true.  One, he had long ago forgiven Ian for all that he just apologized for even though he’d never let himself acknowledge it before, and two, he was still deeply, truly in love with Ian and probably always would be.  

But, he didn't want to fuck Ian up again.  He'd kill himself first, before seeing Ian get like he was before.  No point in wishing things were different, things WERE different now.  Ian was in a good place, Mickey and Yev were doing okay, mostly.  Best to leave things as they were.  

"Uh, well, I want to thank you for coming out here and taking care of Yev.  I really appreciate it.  Let me pay you for the ointment, at least."

Ian bristled.  "No need.  You can keep the tube.  I don't think he'll need anymore around that toe, but it's good for scrapes and cuts and stuff.  Keep it on hand...for him."  Mickey got it-Ian would always do anything for the kid not expecting anything in return.  He nodded.  Ian pressed his lips together, thinking that's as good of a win as he'd ever get from Mickey after all they'd been through, so he stood up and picked up his bag to leave.  

"If you do notice any kind of cut or irritation, and you want me to look at it again, I'm working all nights the rest of the week, but I can stop by any time I’m not at work," Ian said.  

Mickey didn't say anything, just nodded to show he heard while he avoided looking at Ian.  Neither one of them thought there'd be any need to have Ian over to see the foot again.  

 

 

Mickey got paid on Thursdays, and that's when he'd put the fifty bucks in an envelope to get to Ian.  Remembering how he said he'd be working all night shifts, Mickey figured he'd bring it to the Gallagher house instead of leaving it with Kev or Vee at The Alibi.  He hated bringing Yevgeny into the place since the boy always expected to see Svetlana there.  

After picking Yev up from his babysitter they walked over to the Gallaghers' house.  Yev got tired before they got there, since it was a few streets further than his short legs were used to walking, and Mickey picked him up and carried him down North Wallace and up the steps to the Gallaghers' front door.  He rang the bell and after a moment or two the door was pulled open and Mickey found himself face to face with a very sleepy looking Ian in gray sweatpants and a black long sleeved T shirt, his hair a rumpled mess.  Mickey thought he'd never looked sexier.  His mouth dropped open in surprise, both at seeing Ian there in front of him when he thought he'd be at work and from the way his heart felt like it had literally stopped before resuming a hot, pounding beat in his chest.  

Ian's eyes went wide at seeing Mickey, and his brain kicked a plan into immediate action.  

"Deb!" Ian yelled over his shoulder, back towards the kitchen.  "Would you come get Yevgeny, please?"  

Debbie came to the door and unquestioningly did as Ian asked.  "Hey, Mickey!" she said brightly, as Ian took Yevgeny from his numb arms and set him gently down to stand on the floor.  "Hi, Yev!  Want to help me feed Franny?"  Yevgeny nodded happily and took the outstretched hand Debbie held down for him, and they walked off towards the kitchen.  

Ian placed his hands on Mickey's chest and gently pushed him backwards out the front door onto the porch.  Mickey finally found his voice.

"It's fucking cold out, man, you're not wearing any socks or shoes."  It wasn't profound, but it was all Mickey could think to say at the moment.  

"Mick, you've got three seconds to either tell me to fuck off or to punch me in the face, because after that, I’m going to kiss you," Ian said, paying no attention whatsoever to the cold that he didn't even feel.

"One."  Mickey's pupils dilated.  

"Two."  Mickey's nostrils flared.

"Three."  Mickey licked his bottom lip and that's all Ian could take.  He crashed his lips onto Mickey's and kissed him as if the very act would keep him alive.  He didn't grab Mickey or touch him anywhere, he kept his hands at his sides, so Mickey would only have to move his head if he wanted to break contact, but Mickey very much wanted more contact.  He grabbed Ian's waist with one hand, the envelope he had been holding fluttering out of his grasp.  With his other hand he gently cupped Ian's chin and guided his face even closer while they still kissed.  

Ian relaxed into the kiss when he realized Mickey was kissing back. He felt things stirring in him he hadn’t felt in years. He couldn’t believe he had gone without this for so long. Nothing had ever compared to this. Kissing anyone else was a function, something his body did because it was expected by his partners. Kissing Mickey was an experience, one that affected so much more than his lips and tongue.

After who knows how much time passed-it felt like a long time to his lungs but a short time to his heart-Ian reluctantly broke the kiss and pulled back a little. He finally noticed that he had his arms wrapped around Mickey’s waist, he didn’t remember putting them there.

He looked Mickey right in the eyes, searching as Mickey watched him back. “I want you to go home and think about it and tell me tomorrow if you want to keep going with this,” Ian said in his most solemn tone of voice.

“Ian, I’ve had over two years to sit in a cell and think about nothing but what I wanted with you-I want this, I want us. If we fuck up again we fuck up, but nothing, not even losing you again, could hurt more than trying to get along without you. You’re under my skin, man, the fuck can I do?” Mickey pulled Ian in for another kiss. If this was all happening too fast, tough shit. Mickey had had it with trying to deny himself what he wanted. If Ian wanted to try again, they’d try again. What the fuck else was Mickey going to do with his life?

Ian fumbled with the doorknob behind him and once he got the door open, walked backwards still kissing Mickey to get him into the house. Mickey got the door shut again behind him and then Ian pulled back and looked at Mickey. Mickey looked right back and Ian nodded.

“Come on,” Ian breathed, dragging Mickey by the hand towards the kitchen.

Debbie was feeding some redheaded kid in the high chair and Yev was kneeling on a kitchen chair next to the baby’s tray, spooning up applesauce and eating it himself while closely watching Debbie spoon the same stuff into the baby’s mouth.

“You okay watching Yev for maybe an hour?” Ian asked, not really stopping to hear an answer as he pulled Mickey up the first few stairs.

“Sure! He loves feeding Franny, don’t you, Yevgeny? You want to stay with us?”

“Da. Da,” Yevgeny said.

“Oh, Mickey, that’s so cute! He calls you Dada?” Deb asked, all smiles.

“Uh, no, that’s just Russian for ‘yes’, he doesn’t really call me anything,” Mickey said, stopping on the lower stair and looking down at his feet. Ian paused on the step above him, feeling instantly sad, and wondering why it was Mickey’s lot in life to never receive the love he deserved. Ian was going to start changing that, here and now.

“We’ll be back down in a while, Debs,” Ian said, and gave Mickey’s arm a gentle pull to get him moving again.

Up on the second floor, Ian turned and went to the bedroom that was before the bathroom, while Mickey looked down the hall to the room on the end.

“I’m in here now, Fiona took over Frank’s old room. Liam’s still in that room,” Ian tilted his head towards his old room, “and Lip stays there when he’s got nowhere else to go, and Carl sleeps there when he’s home from military school.”

“Military school?” Mickey said in a surprised tone. “Would’ve figured him more for juvie.”

“He’s been there too,” Ian grinned, opening the door to his room and motioning Mickey to go in ahead of him. Mickey gave a last look towards Ian’s old room. Maybe it was just as well they weren’t going to go in there. Probably too many ghosts of their past were still haunting the place. Mickey thought how sweet it was to cuddle in Ian’s tiny cot of a bed in the afterglow, though. That was always pretty great.

Mickey walked into Ian’s new-to him anyway-room. The room itself was pretty small, just a double bed, a tall single chest of drawers, and a night table filled it up. Ian’s bed was made and the room was tidy, no clothes or towels on the floor. Ian shut the door and leaned against it, watching Mickey take in his surroundings.

“It’s not much…” Ian began.

“After a concrete cell, it’s the Four Seasons,” Mickey said, turning and catching Ian’s eye. When he saw the hurt look that had sprung into Ian’s eyes he stepped towards him and grasped his hands. “You got me out of there, Ian. And I don’t think I said thank you, so, I’m saying it now. Thank you.”

Ian grinned a little and even blushed. Mickey thought to himself, “Now that’s better,” and made a promise to himself to try to put as much of the past behind them as they could and only care about the here and now. Enough time had been stolen away from them over the years. He let go of one of Ian’s hands and let his own hand trail up Ian’s arm and over his shoulder and pulled Ian to him for a kiss. A serious, slowly building kiss. Ian responded right away, letting his lips open up so Mickey could slide his tongue in. Ian’s freed hand wrapped around Mickey and found its way to his ass, his palm rubbing over the pocket of Mickey’s jeans.

Mickey was trying to get his coat off one handed, but finally gave up and Ian helped him get it off. Then Ian pulled his own shirt off over his head and the rest of their clothes came off quickly. Mickey looked down at the bed and quirked an eyebrow, and Ian reached around him and threw the blankets and top sheet over to one side so they’d be out of the way. Mickey gave Ian one of his old cocky smiles and sort of flopped onto the bed in a mostly sitting up position, but his legs were stretched out in front of him. Ian climbed onto the bed and over him, staring at Mickey with intensity. Mickey slowly lowered his back onto the mattress, Ian’s body following him, and they resumed making out, their hands trailing everywhere they could reach to reacquaint themselves with each other's bodies.

Ian wanted to take this slow and really show Mickey how much he cared about him, and missed him, and loved him, but his dick just had to show off and take over the show. He barely had Mickey under him before he needed to get his fingers lubed up and working on Mickey or he was going to come all over the sheets. Mickey was no help, moaning and thrashing and begging him to get on with it while Ian was trying to prep him. To buy some time, and to try a little tenderness, Ian pushed his body back so his face was over Mickey’s middle and leaned down and licked all the way up Mickey’s hardening cock. Ian had missed it so. He placed his mouth over the top and swirled his tongue all around the tip. Mickey’s hands dug into Ian’s hair and they both moaned with pleasure.

“Ian, come here, you keep that up and I won’t last,” Mickey groaned, stopping Ian when he would’ve taken Mickey in deeper. Ian looked up at him, and Mickey rubbed the side of his head gently. “Come here,” he repeated, his voice low. Ian placed himself over Mickey again and they kissed. Again. Mickey had never kissed anyone else, ever, so tasting himself on Ian’s tongue heated him up like nothing had in years. “Ian, I’m ready, please.”

Ian grinned and reached back into the nightstand drawer from whence the lube came. He fished out a condom. Mickey didn’t say anything, but his brain paused for a second. They’d never used one before, but of course there were times when they should have. Mickey always used them in prison, and since he’d been out the few times he’d had sex, but Ian had no way of knowing that and Mickey didn’t want to interrupt what they were doing to talk about it. He especially didn’t want to hear Ian give him reasons why they’d have to use one anyway even if Mickey had always been safe. But Mickey decided (quickly, since Ian was rolling the Magnum up his shaft all the while looking Mickey dead in the eye) that they’d go and get tested and cleared as soon as possible. He didn’t want so much as a thin sheath of latex coming between them.

Ian spread some lube over the condom, wiped his hand off on the sheets, and whispered, “Ready?” Mickey nodded, not trusting his voice. Ian guided himself in as slowly as he could, but Mickey pushed towards him with a huff, letting him know to get on with it. Ian’s body responded immediately. Ian grabbed one of Mickey’s hands with his own while the other held up his body and they grasped each other’s fingers tight as Ian slid inside Mickey. They were both panting and starting into each other’s eyes, their chests heaving.

“Move,” Mickey said, as soon as Ian was all the way in. Ian’s hips bucked and he started to pound into Mickey while kissing him sloppily. Mickey was kissing back and then letting his teeth nip their way down Ian’s jaw and latching onto his neck as Ian worked his hips faster and faster and grabbed Mickey’s cock and began jerking him off. Ian was pulling almost all the way out and then slamming back in, and Mickey took every thrust and muffled his yells of pleasure by pressing his mouth against Ian’s shoulder and chest, mindful of the little group downstairs.

Ian and Mickey were lost on a wave of passion and soon Mickey was warning Ian he was close.

“Come for me, Mick.” The voice, the appellation, and Ian’s big, warm hand jerking him with its long desired familiarity got Mickey off, his come covered Ian’s hand and coated them both on their lower bellies. Ian soon followed, feeling Mickey’s ass contract around his cock during his orgasm.

When Ian could think somewhat coherently again, he pulled out and rolled onto his back, managing to get the condom off and tied up without spilling anything out of it. He tossed it into a basket under his night table and then looked over at Mickey, his eyes shining and his hand resting on his heaving chest.

“Fuck, sorry. I really meant for that to be smoother and last longer,” Ian huffed out.

Mickey scoffed. “I seem to remember letting it be known on the street in front of The Alibi that I fucking like it good and hard.” They smiled into each other’s eyes. After a moment or two, Mickey let out a little groan and said, “I guess I better get cleaned up…”

Ian stopped him with a kiss. “Don’t you want another round?” Ian said, his lips still so close to Mickey’s they brushed as he spoke.

Mickey closed his eyes. “More than anything, but Yev’s waiting for me downstairs and he’s only going to be quiet for so long.” Mickey opened his eyes again. “ I know Debbie’s good with kids, but he doesn’t really know her and he’s bound to start fussing at some point. Or that baby she’s watching is, and Yevgeny will get bored with them and want to do something else.”

“That baby she’s watching is hers,” Ian said, hoping to keep the conversation going so Mickey would stay in his bed a bit longer.

“No shit?” Mickey asked, surprised. Ian nodded. “Deb’s a teen mom and Carl was in juvie and then shipped off to military school? Did the whole family fall apart when I was away?”

Ian snuggled closer to Mickey and rested his head on his shoulder. Looking up into Mickey’s eyes he said, “Fiona almost married a guy who was shooting heroin and Lip went to rehab.”

“Fuck. Is Fiona okay?” Ian shrugged and nodded again.

“I guess deep down she knew he wasn’t right for her, she got over him quick. He was at least Frank’s age.” Mickey bit his tongue to avoid bringing up “daddy issues” with Ian.

“And Lip finally admitted he had a drinking problem? Never thought I’d see the day-figured he was neck and neck with Frank when it came to denial.”

“Yeah,” Ian sighed. “He’s not exactly excelling at sobriety. He’s got all sorts of little cheats and systems where he still lets himself drink and kids himself he’s handling it…”

“Just like Frank,” Ian and Mickey said in unison.

They got quiet again, Mickey enjoying the weight of Ian’s head on his clavicle. He let his hand start stroking up and down Ian’s arm where it laid across his waist. He realized he was feeling content, for the first time in he didn’t know how long.

“Mick, I just want to say again how sorry I am. My life’s been such a shitshow and you’ve had to deal with the most of it.”

“Hey,” Mickey said softly, “stop that.” He wriggled out from under Ian a bit and sat up as much as he could, resting back on his elbows. Ian was forced to sit up a bit too, to look Mickey in the eyes. “Ian, you’ve had to deal with so much shit that happened to you. Very little was your choice.”

“But I…” Ian tried.

“But nothing. You were a kid Ian, a teenager. What teenager makes all the right decisions and never messes anything up? No one’s perfect. No one. I don’t expect perfection and I sure as shit know I’ll never be perfect. We’ll do our best, right? And when we fuck up, hopefully we’ll be there for each other and get through it somehow, just like we’ve always done.”

Ian nodded, but still didn’t look too sure. He felt like once again, if anyone was going to get hurt here it would be Mickey, and it would be Ian’s fault-or his illness’ fault, technically, but Ian would be the one causing the hurting.

Mickey watched Ian’s eyes and could practically read his thoughts. “Ian, we’ll face whatever comes together. You’ve changed since I went away. I can see it. You’re dealing with stuff now, not trying to outrun it.”

“I know I’m doing good right now,” Ian said, “but it can change. My meds get out of whack sometimes, or if I’m trying to do too much at once…”

“Yeah?” Mickey said, truly interested.

“I, uh, call my doctor, go to therapy, get my meds adjusted.”

Mickey nodded. “I know none of that is easy as it sounds, but I also figured out if you’ve been able to work all this time, things must be relatively good. Give yourself some credit, Ian.” Mickey wanted to add he was sure none of his siblings were giving him credit, but he didn’t want to make Ian feel worse about them-even if Mickey did think they were, for the most part, useless. Debbie still seemed to be the only one who ever pitched in and helped out. Mickey had often felt like Fiona and Lip caused more problems for Ian by immediately playing the bipolar card whenever Ian did or said something they didn’t like, and they were always subtly letting Ian know they didn’t value his opinions on family matters.

Ian leaned towards Mickey and kissed him again, getting Mickey to ease back down to the pillow. They kissed tenderly for a few minutes, Mickey letting his fingers run through Ian’s hair. Ian was using his hands to keep his weight off of Mickey, but let his thumbs trail over Mickey’s flesh they were near.

Mickey put both his hands on the sides of Ian’s head and gently pushed him away, finally breaking the kiss.

“What are you doing here?” Mickey asked, looking at Ian somewhat in wonder, like he had just woken up (which in a lot of ways, he felt had-woken up from a long, lonely nightmare).

“I…I thought you wanted to be here,” Ian said, getting flustered and defensive and worried that he had moved too quickly from a state of Mickey tolerating him being around to dragging him off to his bed for sex.

“No, _here_ , what are you doing home? I thought you said you had all night shifts this week?”

“Oh,” Ian said with a relieved chuckle, “I wound up working a double yesterday-one of the guys, his grandma had a stroke so he was up at the hospital with his mom. She only has him, so he wanted to be there. I’m working an overnight starting at midnight for him tonight too, a couple of us rearranged our shifts to cover for him, but the good part is, I’ll get a three day weekend after tonight’s shift. That hardly ever happens, at least for us newer guys.”

“Uh, Yev and I will just be hanging out all weekend-you could come over and hang out with me and the kid…if you want,” Mickey said, almost shyly.

Ian grinned. “I want.”

Outside, Frank was staggering up the walk, hoping to find some warm food on the table and cold beer in the refrigerator. A spot of white on the ground caught his eye, and he picked up a plain envelope and found a couple of twenties and a ten inside. He smiled a delighted smile to himself and tootled off down to The Alibi to pay off his old tab and open a new one, and that’s what became of the last payment Mickey tried to give Ian for paying for his lawyer.

 

That weekend Ian did show up at Mickey’s. He was going to wait till after lunch, then he thought he might as well eat lunch with Mickey and Yevgeny, then he decided that with a toddler in the house, they probably didn’t sleep in late even on the weekends, so at ten AM Ian found himself knocking on Mickey’s door, not caring if Mickey teased him for being an eager little bitch-as a matter of fact, Ian was kind of hoping Mick would do just that.

Mickey didn’t tease him, but the smile he broke into when he opened the door more than made up for Ian missing out on some teasing. Yevgeny was up and tearing around the house, burning off all the energy that got stored up during the week when the nice babushka let him play at her house. He was delighted to have another person to play with. They spent the rest of the morning playing outside, and after a pb and j lunch Ian dug out some little books he had brought over in a duffel bag that Mickey hoped also contained clothes and shaving stuff for a sleepover.

Ian could tell Yev was more than ready for a nap, and he hoped reading a story or two would lull him into settling down.

“Hey, Yev, wanna sit down on the couch and look at these books with me?” Ian asked. Yevgeny stuck his tongue out a little at the corner of his mouth, considering. He looked so like Mickey in that moment that it was all Ian could do to keep from pointing it out-he didn’t want the kid to get self-conscious about it and stop doing it. Yev finally nodded and scrambled up onto the couch next to Ian. Mickey sat down on Yevgeny’s other side, giving Ian a small smile over the boy’s head.

“Uh, Debs got Franny a big storybook that has all these stories in it in one place, so she wanted Yevgeny to have these books, if that’s all right,” Ian explained, a little nervous as to how Mickey would take them giving Yevgeny stuff, even if it was used.

“That was really nice of her to think of him, we’ll have to thank her next time we see her, right buddy?” Mickey said.

“Da!” said Yevgeny.

Ian relaxed and opened the first book. It was Goldilocks and the Three Bears and Mickey took advantage of Ian having to look at the pages to have his fill of looking at Ian’s profile. He enjoyed Ian’s “reading voice” and was lost in the sound of him describing the bears’ cottage and porridge and chairs and beds, but when Ian got to the part when the bears got home, Yev perked up.

“’Someone’s been eating my porridge,’ grumbled Papa Bear,” Ian read, doing a growly voice and everything.

“’Papa?’” Yev said, sitting up straighter. He looked closer at the picture in the book. Then he looked up at Mickey. “Papa,” he said, pointing at Mickey.

“I’m Papa?” Mickey said, worried it was the growly voice Ian had used that reminded the boy of him.

“Papa.” Yev climbed down off the couch and toddled off to his room, which was Mickey’s old room by the bathroom. Mickey and Ian got off the couch and followed him.

Down in Yev’s room, he had a low table that Mickey had dug out from somewhere that held his few coloring books and crayons that Svetlana had brought with him when she dropped him off. Yev rifled through the little pile and pulled out a coloring book of basic shapes that he never seemed to color in, as far as Mickey could remember. He had more interest in the coloring books that had animated movie characters and superheroes in them. Yev rifled through the pages of the shapes book (Mickey could see that the pages had all been colored, so that was probably another reason he had never seen Yev using that book, it was already “done”) until he found what he was looking for-a blurry five by seven inch photo of Mickey. He held it up to the men and said, “Papa,” and then put it down on the table and pointed at Mickey.

Mickey knelt down by Yev and looked at the picture. “That’s me all right. I didn’t even know she took this. Look, I’m wearing the ‘tie of respectability’,” he said to Ian. Ian looked down and nodded. He remembered that day, but he didn’t remember Svetlana snapping any pictures either-or even having her phone out.

“We must have been too much into each other to have noticed,” Ian thought out loud. Mickey nodded. There were so many times when all he saw in a room full of people was Ian.

“Do you know I’m your papa?” Mickey asked Yevgeny tentatively. For all he knew, the kid thought that was just his name or something.

“Da. Mickey is Papa,” Yev smiled happily. Mickey was glad he was kneeling, he felt like hearing Yevgeny say that would’ve knocked him over otherwise. He grabbed the kid into an impulsive hug. Usually he was very tentative about touching Yevgeny, giving the boy plenty of time and warning so he could get away if he didn’t want to be touched, but Yev hugged Mickey back fiercely and snuggled his head into Mickey’s shoulder. “Good, Papa,” Yevgeny said, reaching his little hand up and patting Mickey’s cheek.

Mickey looked up at Ian with a happy smile, and saw Ian’s eyes were swimming in tears as he smiled back at the two Milkoviches in front of him.

 

“You, ah, spending the night?” Mickey asked after supper was done and Yevgeny had gone to bed (again without crying for Svetlana).

Ian swallowed hard, and looked down at the floor but then raised his eyes just enough to look at Mickey. “I didn’t want to presume…”

“So you need an official invitation? Fine. Will you spend the night?” Mickey said, trying to pull it off as playful, but truly hoping Ian said yes. Yevgeny wasn’t the only person in the house that had excess energy he needed to burn.

Ian broke into a smile. “I did happen to bring a change of clothes-or two.”

Ian did a good job of wearing Mickey out. They used Mandy’s old room so there’d be an entire room between them and Yevgeny instead of just the bedroom wall, and they felt freed up to be more energetic and vocal than they’d been their first time back together. They went three rounds before falling asleep, Mickey topping for the last one and Ian hadn’t felt so cherished and wanted since the last time Mickey had taken care of him like that, back before everything went to hell.

Mickey woke up in the dark of night. He fumbled for his phone and saw it was a little after three. Ian’s half of the bed was not only empty, it was cold. Mickey had an instant of the old panic, but then remembered things were different now. It had only been a few days since Ian had come back into his life, but he knew Ian better than he knew himself, he knew Ian was okay.

Mickey sleepily made his way out into the hallway and could see the light in the living room was on. He rubbed the sleep out of one eye while he took in the sight of Ian pacing the floor with Yev reclining in his arms. Ian’s hair was all pulled and tousled. Mickey took a second to appreciate the fact that he had given Ian that sex hair, and it looked damn good on him. He quietly stepped further into the room, not wanting to awaken Yevgeny if he was sleeping.

When he got closer he could see his son wasn’t asleep, his eyes were open and he was hugging his elephant. Ian’s phone was sort of resting on Yevy, and a song was playing softly on it.

“He was…awake,” Ian didn’t want to say crying or upset, “and I heard him.”

Mickey nodded. “He usually does wake up at least a couple times in the night. I’m sorry I didn’t hear him, I usually do, I would’ve gotten up…”

“You were sleeping so good,” Ian grinned. “I hope this is okay.” He looked down at Yev in his arms.

“Of course it’s okay,” Mickey scoffed. “What’s that on your phone?”

Ian blushed a little. “Uh, I looked up Russian lullabies on You Tube. He was calling for, you know, and I thought this might help?”

“Looks like it’s working,” Mickey said, wondering why he never thought to try something like that. Then again, he didn’t have a phone with a data plan and that could play videos. He peered over Yev’s shoulder at the phone screen. The lady singing didn’t look anything like Svetlana-or Nika for that matter-but her voice seemed nice enough, not that Mickey knew what she was singing about. “Why don’t we sit down?” Mickey said, plopping down in the corner of the living room couch. To his surprise, Ian maneuvered himself onto the couch so his back was next to Mickey, and he swung his legs up into a triangle and rested Yev’s back against them so his legs and feet were going up Ian’s front. Ian leaned back to rest his head on the arm of the couch and looked up at Mickey with a little smile. It was cozy, and they all fit together so perfectly.

Yev’s eyes were still on Ian’s phone, but they kept drooping shut and then he’d open them again to watch the screen some more. Ian had found some kind of list, because when one song would end a video for a new one would begin. Mickey and Ian watched Yevgeny for a while. Yev’s eyes finally closed and stayed closed and Mickey looked down at Ian, who was still looking at the boy. Mickey couldn’t help but feel how good it was to know there was someone else who loved his son and could be counted on to try to give him anything he might ever need. Just then Ian looked up into Mickey’s eyes.

“I love you,” Mickey said, but immediately clutched when the words were out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say it yet-hell, this time he didn’t plan on saying it first at all. If Ian wanted to say it, he’d say it back, but…But fuck it, Mickey thought in the next instant. They’d already wasted too much time in their past not saying things that should’ve been said. Right now he didn’t regret the fact that he loved Ian, and had loved him and him only for the longest time. He leaned down and kissed Ian, letting one of his hands get tangled in the thick hair at the back of Ian’s head. Ian responded warmly, letting Mickey control this kiss but definitely participating.

When the kiss ended, it wasn’t Ian who spoke next.

“Bed,” Yevgeny’s sleepy voice said. “Papa, bed.”

Mickey smiled down into Ian’s eyes for a second more and then Ian raised his back in sort of a crunch move to let Mickey stand up while Ian continued to hold onto and balance Yevgeny on his legs. Once Mickey was up off the couch, he swooped Yevgeny up into his arms as Ian held onto his phone. Yev held onto his elephant, and slung one arm around Mickey’s neck and snuggled into his shoulder sleepily. He looked back at Ian, rested his chin on Mickey’s shoulder and said, “You too,” while reaching out making a grabby hand motion with his free hand. Ian grinned and got up off the couch and followed them into Yev’s room.

Once Yevgeny was tucked in and kissed goodnight they quietly went back to Mandy’s old room. Yev was asleep before Mickey had even closed his bedroom door.

“I wish I had a picture of his mother to show him-like how he had that picture of me to look at,” Mickey mused out loud.

“There’s, um, no wedding pictures?” Ian asked tentatively. Mickey snorted and shook his head no. Ian was pretty sure there weren’t any from the christening either. He had been too drunk at the wedding to notice if anyone was snapping photos, but he remembered the christening clearly. “Maybe there’s something from a party at The Alibi or something-something with her in the background. I could put Debbie on the case-if there’s something out there, I bet she could find it. Maybe find some picture that could be blown up and cropped…”

“You really think she wouldn’t mind looking?” Mickey said.

“Of course not, especially if it’s for Yev. I’ll call and ask her tomorrow.”

“Thanks, and thank her for me, if she says yes,” Mickey said. He got back into bed. “You coming?” he asked Ian.

Ian lowered himself onto the bed and watched as Mickey arranged the blankets over them.

“Mickey, I…I love you too.” Mickey smiled, and went to kiss Ian. “But,” Ian’s voice stopped him. Mickey tried to keep the look of panic he was feeling out of his eyes, but, but what? “But it’s not always going to be this good. Right now my meds really seem to be working, but this really feels like some sort of honeymoon stage-my libido hasn’t worked this good, ever, since I’ve been on medication, and who knows but I’ll get to a point again where I can’t even get it up, no matter how much I want you and love you…” Ian blurted out all in a rush.

“Stop,” Mickey hushed him gently. “Ian, I told you, I don’t expect you to be perfect.   What we’ve been doing has been great, but I get it. It’s only been two times-“

“Four,” Ian interrupted, smiling cockily in spite of his worries.

“Okay, _four_ times in the two times we’ve been in bed together, but I just got out of prison and we’ve been apart for so long. Of course right now is going to be the equivalent to a ‘Dear Penthouse’ letter. It’s not a pace I expect either of us to keep up. And, besides, you think I just love you for your body?” Mickey raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you love me just for my ass?”

“It is a pretty spectacular ass,” Ian grinned.

“Fuck you, you love me for my sparkling personality and people skills, that’s what you love me for,” Mickey said, unable to keep from laughing at himself.

“Hey,” Ian said, rolling over so he was hovering over Mickey. “I love you for you, and always have.”

Mickey swallowed hard. Ian’s voice and face were so sincere. Mickey felt like maybe he finally got it-if someone asked him why he loved Ian, all he could say was because he’s Ian. Maybe it was possible that Ian loved him like that-hell, it was more than possible, it was probable, because Mickey had to learn about love from someone in his life, and that someone had been Ian.

They kissed each other goodnight and shut out the light. The morning would come soon enough and Yevgeny would wake up at his usual time despite being up in the night.

They spent a lazy rainy Sunday indoors, watching parts of Yevgeny’s favorite movies until he’d get bored and demand they do something more active. They played some hide and seek, and a lot of tickling went on, and they managed to wear Yev out enough that his bedtime went fairly smoothly with a couple more Russian lullaby videos and Yev even slept through the night, although both Mickey and Ian kept an ear out for him all night long.

On Monday Mickey only felt slightly guilty about bringing Yev to his babysitter despite having taken his first day off ever from his job that wasn’t due to Yevgeny being sick. Ian and Mickey walked Yev to the sitter’s house, each holding one of his hands and picking him up to swing him over puddles on the sidewalk. Yevgeny would whoop with them every time, and his giggle lit up the whole morning. Mickey and Ian raced each other home and spent their first alone time together without having to worry about little ears overhearing or Yev calling to them missing his mother. They took full advantage of this “free” time and didn’t let themselves worry about if it couldn’t possibly last or ever be this good again.

From that weekend on, Ian was back in their lives for good.

They got engaged, then married (see Gallavich Week 2017B Day 4 “Dugouts And Waterfalls”). They even bought a house. It was tiny and it was shitty, but it was theirs, a place all their own without all the fucking ugly memories the Milkovich house held-or even the Gallaghers' house. They had had more than their share of bad times there, too.

The day they bought their own place, their finances really got tight, but they were making a good investment, and rent anywhere relatively safe in Chicago would’ve cost them about as much. Ian had a steady job, but basically only earned a living wage, and contrary to popular belief, two couldn’t truly live as cheaply as one-at least not in a big city. And Mickey’s salary was even lower, and they had a growing boy to raise. Luckily Ian had good health insurance with okay dental and vision plans for a little bit extra. But going from a single plan to a family plan meant his paycheck actually got smaller when they got married, and Mickey not having to pay for the shittier insurance plan from his work anymore didn’t make up the difference.

The day they showed the house to Lip he was less than impressed. It was a squat little box of a house, just one story, an unfinished basement with a washer and dryer that the previous owner had thrown in with the sale of the house, and four rooms on the main floor, and a crawl space under the roof. A living room, a kitchen, a bigger bedroom, and a smaller bedroom for Yev made up the main floor. The place also had one and a half bathrooms.

Lip stood on the sidewalk looking at the place with his brother and new brother-in-law. The house was covered in what was once a mint green vinyl siding that over the years had turned dingy and darker.

“Looks like baby puke,” Lip observed.

“Like you would know,” Mickey muttered quietly. He didn’t seem to be spending much time around his niece, especially when she needed to be cleaned up.

“The house is listing to one side,” Lip said, pointing. It was true. The house was definitely crooked, and the vinyl siding was buckling at the front right corner. Ian and Mickey knew it was also buckling like that in the back.

“Yeah, but Tommy down at The Alibi came to take a look and said it can be shored up in the basement with some beams. He’s going to show us how to do it and we’re gonna buy the lumber and brackets and whatever else he tells us we need and do the work ourselves, so it’ll just cost us the materials and a case of beer for his time,” Mickey growled. Lip couldn’t let them just have their moment in front of their new house?

“And Lip will help too,” Ian said, throwing his arm around his brother’s shoulders, “so even more free manual labor.”

“I thought I was helping you move in,” Lip scoffed.

“You’re doing that too,” Ian nodded. All his siblings were going to, whether they knew it or not. Mickey’s family was still scattered to the winds, otherwise they would’ve been on the hook to help out as well.

It seemed like every month unexpected expenses cropped up, most having to do with the house. Mickey would get grumpy, Ian would get them invited over to one of his sibling’s houses a couple of times for dinner so they could save on groceries, and they’d make things stretch a little bit extra, like showering together (without any fun sexy time) to save where they could. They always managed. Mickey hated being a burden-or spending any extra time with Lip-but Ian rightly pointed out that he and Mickey reciprocated when they were able.

But now Mickey felt even worse, since he felt like his grumpiness had scared Yevgeny.

He pushed away his sandwich and crossed his arms over his chest. He wished he could go outside Alpo’s and smoke, but he knew Ian would follow him and he wanted Ian to finish up his lunch. He needed to keep himself fed for his active job.

Ian took a bite of his sandwich and watched Mickey, knowing he was still beating himself up over nothing. Ian knew Yev wasn’t afraid of Mickey, not in the way Mickey was thinking he was, anyway. Yevgeny was just afraid of disappointing Mickey. He was too little to understand that both his dads felt like the sun rose and set on him and nothing he could ever do, even intentionally, would shake that love.

“Mick, you’re a great fucking dad,” Ian said gently, putting his hand on top of Mickey’s for a moment. “You fill his life with happiness and love. He’s only afraid of disappointing you, that’s all.”

Mickey snorted. “I think you’re confusing me with yourself about that filling his life up,” Mickey said.

“I’m not. Mickey, that kid idolizes you. He loves us both, but he knows you’re his father, you’re…more.”

“Ian, I’m fucking not-you couldn’t love that kid any more if he was your biological son.”

“I know, but you two are made up of parts of each other. I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you both in my life.” Ian beamed at Mickey.

Mickey looked down at the table and shook his head. “I want to give him so much more, but everything costs money.” Ian almost grinned, remembering Yev saying almost the same thing that morning, but he didn’t want Mickey to think Yev meant it the way Mickey did. Ian knew Mickey didn’t begrudge Yevgeny anything he needed.

“Look how we dress him,” Mickey said, still not looking at Ian. “Everything comes from Goodwill or as hand-me-downs from Liam, which were handed down from you and Carl and Lip, mostly.”

“Who cares? The only fashion statement he ever wants to make is to cut the sleeves off his winter clothes like you do when spring comes.” Ian smiled thinking about it.

“And that’s another thing-we keep the house so cold we have to bundle him up in all those layers all winter long, just so he has a shot at keeping warm.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Mickey, we live in Chicago, winters here are tough. We grew up wearing layers, what’s wrong with that? I personally love getting to peel all that fleece and flannel and thermal off you, to get down to the good stuff when we’re getting busy.”

“You perv,” Mickey chortled. Then he remembered he was on a rant and stopped thinking about Ian pulling off his warmest thermal long sleeve undershirt and running his hands up and down Mickey’s still warm body on cold winter nights. He slapped a scowl back on his face and glared at the menu board hanging over the counter behind Ian.

Ian sighed and tried again. “Mickey, he’s a kid. All he cares about is that we love him and he’s got chicken nuggets on the regular, but you give him so much more. You came up with that magic potion for when he’s sick-how many dads do magic?”

“Ian, that’s just Hawaiian Punch and half a banana I put in your Magic Bullet.”

“But it always makes him feel better, doesn’t it?” Ian insisted.

“Then there’s how I almost ruined last Christmas beyond fuck,” Mickey muttered darkly, changing the subject.

Ian knew Mickey was beating himself up because he felt guilty. He was beginning to despair he wasn’t going to talk him out of his funk before his lunch time was up. He wished they were at home so he could try persuading Mickey to lighten up on himself in a non-verbal fashion.

“Mickey, ‘you’ didn’t ruin anything.” Three weeks before Christmas they woke up to discover their basement was flooded because the water heater had rusted out and burst open along the bottom. Then that night they came home to a dead refrigerator. A repair guy came out and told them the fridge needed so many parts it would cost more to fix than getting a new one, and of course the water heater was beyond repair. “That refrigerator came from your old house and just didn’t have any more life in it, and water heaters rust out. You couldn’t have prevented any of that. And besides, you managed to come up with the perfect Christmas present for Yev anyway.’

“Fifty cent used books from Goodwill? Yeah, that was a fucking treat.”

“Books that we read to him under the blanket fort you thought to build,” Ian said, his eyes shining with the memory. “Guarantee you that when he grows up, that’ll be the Christmas memory he tells his own kids about.”

They had wound up snowed in on Christmas Day, rendering their plans to have Christmas dinner at Fiona’s house obsolete. Mickey was more disappointed than any of them, he had been counting on Debbie and Fiona’s presents to make up for the small, sad stack they had in their own house for Yev to open. Those appliances shitting the bed almost ruined them financially. They had had to wipe out their emergency fund and even Yev’s college fund started by Ian before they got back together with the money for the lawyer Mickey had tried to pay back. The only reason Mickey would even touch that money was because they could replace it when they got their tax refund, not to mention the fact that without it, they wouldn’t have been able to have one or the other: hot water or food that needed to be kept cold, like milk for growing bones.

On Christmas Eve Ian had had to work a noon to eight PM shift, and when he got home he was carrying a little three foot pine tree and a plastic bag.

“Ian, I thought we agreed on no tree…” Mickey said in a low voice while Yev squealed and danced around the tree when Ian placed it on the floor to remove his coat and hat.

“The lot was just trying to get rid of them at this point, Mick. It was marked down to five bucks-that’s a small price to pay for all this piney cheer, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!” Yevgeny yelled.

“Uh-huh,” Mickey said, not exactly convinced. “And what’s in the bag, then?”

“Stopped by Fiona’s, figured she’d have some extra strings of lights we could borrow.” Ian didn’t add that he was going to take them off the front porch if he had to-it was more important that Yevgeny have lights inside than the Gallaghers have some outside, but it hadn’t come to that. Fiona had lights left over that they hadn’t needed for their tree. “She also gave me some green and red construction paper and glue so we can make a paper chain to hang on the tree.”

“Yay!” Yevgeny yelled. He was always down to do some arts and crafts with his dads. Mickey actually came up with the idea to make a star for the top of the little tree out of some tin foil and with the lights and chain, the little tree looked quite festive.

After Yev had gone to bed, Ian and Mickey stayed up wrapping the books in paper they had got at the dollar store.

“Good thing the tree’s so small, since these are so puny,” Mickey said, sliding the last wrapped book under the tree.

Ian sighed and wrapped his arms around Mickey from behind when he straightened up in front of the tree. “All little kids care about is that it’s the holidays and they’re off from school for a week. He’s going to be so excited tomorrow and running around. You’ll see.”

“I just really wish we could’ve gotten him that bike.” That was the original plan for their almost six year old, his first “real” bike with training wheels.

“It’ll be more practical to give it to him for his birthday,” Ian pointed out. “It’s closer to spring and he’ll actually be able to ride it then.” Some of their future tax refund had already been earmarked for the bicycle and helmet.

“Hmm,” Mickey half-grumbled, but he did lean back into Ian and brought his hands up to rest on Ian’s arms to hold him there.

“How about we get to bed and you let me slide down your chimney.” Ian bit down on Mickey’s earlobe gently and then gave a soft lick to that spot just behind his ear that drove Mickey wild.

Mickey burst out laughing and broke out of Ian’s hold to turn around and shake his head at him. “Good thing you’re so fucking hot, you know that? Because that line was so cheesy…”

Ian cut him off with a kiss. He was on a mission to give Mickey a very merry Christmas orgasm and he wasn’t about to be sidetracked.

Their keyed up son woke them up too few hours later, jumping onto the bed and very narrowly missing landing on Mickey’s family jewels. Mickey couldn’t let him get away with that, so he tickled him mercilessly while Yev half-heartedly begged him to stop.

“Have you gone to the bathroom yet this morning, Yev?” Ian asked. Mickey stopped tickling him immediately.

“Yes, Daddy,” Yevgeny answered, and took full advantage of Mickey’s hesitation to start tickling him.

“You two gaining up on me?” Mickey said, grabbing Yev and lifting him in the air while he still lay on his back in the bed.

“Yup,” Ian said, tickling Mickey while his ribs were exposed. Mickey let his arms collapse and they were all tangled up in a ball of poking fingers and flailing limbs, their laughter ringing in the holiday.

They finally got out of bed and made their way to the little tree. The wind was howling outside, but it was still dark out and they couldn’t see the blizzard yet. Yev waited impatiently while Ian started the coffee maker and then ran to the tree as soon as his dads were seated on the couch.   He had the handful of books they had gotten him unwrapped in a matter of seconds, but then he went back and sounded out the titles of the picture books written for his reading level, and even did pretty well working out the titles of the chapter books.

“These are awesome! Thank you!” he said, going to the couch and hugging Mickey and then Ian.

While Ian and Yev went to the kitchen to pour the coffee and make Yevgeny a mug of hot chocolate, Mickey turned on the TV and saw the weather forecast reporting the blizzard. The day before the weather forecasters had been saying there had been a chance of snow, but overnight a front had pushed down from Canada that they thought would remain north of the city. Travel was not recommended and the mayor of Chicago was urging everyone to rearrange their plans and stay put for the day.

Mickey shut off the TV and put on a Christmas music CD Yev liked and they convinced Yev to go back to bed for a bit after his cocoa. Yev was sleepy enough, since he had gotten up at least two hours before his regular time, and Ian and Mickey went back to their room too. Mickey told Ian about the blizzard and they agreed they’d just hole up and have macaroni and cheese instead of Fiona’s Christmas turkey. Mickey gave Ian a Christmas blowjob and then Ian fell back asleep as well.

When Ian and Yevgeny both got up again at a more decent hour, they came out of their rooms to find that Mickey had been a busy elf while they slept. The living room had been converted into one big blanket fort, and Mickey had even put the little tree under there, along with almost every pillow they owned and all the couch and chair cushions were on the floor. Mickey broke the news to Yev that they wouldn’t be able to go to Fiona’s, but they were going to hang out in the fort and read stories and do puzzles and color and stuff.

“All of us? All day? Daddy won’t have to go to work?”

“All of us. Daddy’s not going anywhere, he still owes me for this morning…”

“Owes you what?” Yevgeny asked.

“A hot chocolate, just like I made for you this morning. You know how Papa likes sweet stuff,” Ian grinned at his husband, who grinned right back.

“Mickey, you’re a great dad,” Ian repeated, bringing Mickey back to the here and now at the greasy little sandwich shop. “The _only_ thing Yev ever sees you upset about is money-and Lip, when he’s being a tool.” That got a small smile out of Mickey at least. “But seriously, you’re nothing like Terry. You never direct your temper at Yevgeny and anything else that works you up, you keep it in check when you’re around the kid, always.” Ian’s voice got lower and softer. “Mick, we both know what shitty parenting looks like, we’re not doing that. We’re not fucking up.”

Mickey nodded. He remembered when he and Ian first got back together and how Ian would keep beating himself up about stuff he thought he was not doing “perfect” enough and how frustrated Mickey was because Ian was being too hard on himself. He had the feeling Ian probably felt that way about him right about now.

“Okay, Ian. I hear you. I’ll see you at home tonight.” They got up and threw their lunch trash out, and Ian pulled Mickey into a hug before they went out the door.

“Love you,” Ian muttered into Mickey’s ear.

“Love you too.”

That night Mickey got out of work first, so he picked Yev up from the babysitter’s, which is where Yev spent his after school time when both his dads were at work. He excitedly showed Mickey the loose tooth and Mickey made sure to make a big deal out of it. Ian got home and they had supper, and then Yev showed them whatever paperwork he brought home from school that day and filled them in on all the latest kindergarten gossip.

Ian asked if the tooth had gotten any looser and Yevgeny said he was sure it had. Ian proceeded to tell Yev that when it fell out, they’d put it under his pillow when he went to bed and the Tooth Fairy would leave him a surprise in exchange for the tooth. Mickey was sitting next to Ian on the couch and he shot him a “what the fuck are you talking about?” look. Ian steadfastly ignored him while Yev questioned Ian about the Tooth Fairy and what kind of surprises it brought.

“That’s just it, if anyone knew, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Ian shrugged. He knew Yev would be as excited with a shiny quarter as he would be with a dollar, or even five, so Ian wanted to discuss that with Mickey in private when they had the chance.

That night in bed, Mickey brought it up. “What was all that fairy shit you were telling Yev?”

Ian wasn’t surprised that Mickey hadn’t had dealings with the Tooth Fairy in his own childhood. If it hadn’t been for Fiona, Ian knew he wouldn’t have ever gotten anything under his pillow either. Ian sketched out the tradition for Mickey, and said what he thought about the money.

“Ian, please, I’ve seen movies and TV, I’ve heard of the Tooth Fairy-I just didn’t know it’d be something we’d be doing.”

“Well, it’s okay, isn’t it? When the other kids at school start losing their baby teeth, they’re bound to be getting visits from the Tooth Fairy,” Ian pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s true. And of course I can just see trying to stop you from anything fairy-related.” Mickey gave Ian his cheekiest smile.

Once Ian put the idea in Mickey’s head of a “surprise” from the Tooth Fairy, he really wanted to come up with something special for this first tooth. Moving forward, they could do the traditional quarters or dollar bills or whatever, but Mickey wanted the kid to get something memorable for that first one. Although what the fuck that might be he didn’t have the slightest clue.

He was headed to work from his El stop one morning when he stopped under an awning to get out of the drizzle that was coming down and light a cigarette, he had had an easy morning getting Yev to school and had a few extra minutes to kill before his shift. He noticed he was outside a pawn shop and he let his eyes do some window shopping in lieu of anything better to do.

“May I have a light?” a voice said from a couple feet away on the sidewalk. Mickey turned his gaze from the window and saw an older man with a cigarette already in his hand. Mickey nodded and pulled his lighter back out of his pocket and the man leaned forward and lit up. “Are you thinking of going in?” the man asked, gesturing towards the pawn shop. “They open at eight.”

“Oh, naw, man. Just stopped to get out of the rain,” Mickey said, glancing in the window again. “Although…my kid’s just about to lose his first tooth. Maybe they have something in there I could stick under his pillow.”

The man laughed a nice quiet little laugh. Mickey liked the sound of it, he realized. It wasn’t startling or obnoxious-it actually reminded him of Ian’s laugh.

“I remember those days,” the man said. “Went through it with five kids myself.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “We’re finding it hard enough to keep up with one,” he smiled.

“Hey, I might have something here you might be interested in seeing,” the man said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. Mickey could tell even from a few feet away it was bigger than a quarter. “You ever see one of these?” the man asked. “It’s a Liberty silver dollar.” The coin was shiny and when Mickey looked at it more closely he could see the year 1921 stamped on it.

“Cool,” he said.

“I’m looking to sell it, that’s what I’m doing here. I’ve got a bunch of ‘em.” He rattled his coat pocket. “Don’t know if it’s the type of thing you had in mind for your kid’s tooth, but if you’d like, I could sell it to you directly for what Dennis inside here will give me-he’ll just mark it up and sell it on for even more.”

Mickey hesitated. This all felt like a weird scam, but on the other hand, why wouldn’t a guy looking to sell something be right outside a pawn shop. All the same, though…

“Aw, it’s probably more than I’m looking to spend,” Mickey said. “Thanks anyway.”

“I’m only asking ten bucks for it,” the man said. “Dennis will mark them up to at least twenty.”

Mickey considered the coin thoughtfully. It did look pretty cool. If nothing else, Yev could have it in his room as a little knick knack. Ten bucks seemed a reasonable price for something that was almost a hundred years old. And Mickey did just happen to have a ten in his pocket, change from the pack of smokes he’d bought that morning. He wouldn’t even have to take out his wallet in case this was some sort of scam.

Feeling that he might be as dumb as Jack handing over his cow for some beans in the story they had read to Yev on Christmas Day, Mickey forked over the cash and thanked the old timer. He felt better that night when he looked up coins on their crappy old laptop computer-the silver dollar was worth at least ten bucks and maybe as much as twenty, not that he planned to try to sell it. He was just glad there were still some nice trustworthy people in the world.

A couple of weeks later Ian and Mickey were getting ready for bed when Yevgeny burst into their room, yelling excitedly.

“I was brushing my teeth and my tooth was looser than ever, so I pulled it back and forth a couple of times and look!” He held out his hand, proudly showing off the little pearly object.

“Wow, buddy, that’s awesome!” Ian said.

“Yeah, Yev, good job! You didn’t swallow it or nothing,” Mickey said.

“Can we put it under my pillow? Tonight? Do you guys need to call the Tooth Fairy or send a text or something?”

Ian laughed and reassured Yev that the Tooth Fairy would “just know”. Mickey knelt down and said, “Let me see your mouth.” Yev opened wide.

“Can you see where the tooth used to be? Is there a hole?” Yev had been so excited to tell his fathers his tooth had come out, he had forgotten to look.

“Yep, come here,” Mickey said, picking him up and bringing him into the bathroom off his and Ian’s room. They looked into the mirror, Ian standing behind them to get a look too.

“It looks awfully big,” Yev said tentatively, not sure how much he liked having a black hole in his teeth. “How long before I get the new tooth?

“Well, that takes a while,” Mickey told him. “You’ll be getting your adult teeth in to replace your baby teeth, you need some room in there. Your mouth needs to grow a bit first.”

“It does?” Yevgeny said.

“Sure, don’t you think my mouth needed to grow before I could fit these Chiclets in there?” Mickey said, baring his teeth to show Yevgeny.

Yev giggled. “Will I have teeth as big as yours, Papa?”

“Probably, Yev. You’ve got all his other best features,” Ian said, smiling at his two guys in the mirror.

“Good, I want Chiclet teeth too,” Yevgeny said.

Yev finally fell asleep and the Tooth Fairy managed to sneak the coin under his pillow without waking him. The silver dollar was a big hit in the morning. Yevgeny was very impressed with it.

“He really seemed to like it,” Mickey said, while Yev was in the bathroom brushing his teeth and getting ready for school. “Thanks for teaching me about this Tooth Fairy shit.”

“I learned something too,” Ian said. “I never knew the Tooth Fairy was a bottom.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little story. It grew and grew as I was writing it. I hadn't intended for it to be so long, but I like traipsing off into back story and imagining our heroes living a life together and their adventures along the way. 
> 
> I used Google translate for the Russian words, and they changed "good night" on me from one day to the next, so if anything I have Yev say in his mother's native tongue is incorrect, I won't be surprised. If any Russian speaking readers see something that needs to be corrected, I'll appreciate the assist. 
> 
> And just an FYI-in this version Ian never slept with a woman when Caleb cheated with his high school girlfriend. And Ian wasn't a gold star top either. Canon can suck it. 
> 
> If you had fun with this story, please check out Day 4's story which will also take place in this sort of AU. It's called "Dugouts And Waterfalls".


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